đ” Music Suggestion:
"Elegy" by Austin Wintory
(The sound of reverence turned into rage.)
---
They didn't dare speak when Lucian entered.
Even the fire in the wall sconces pulled back, dimming like it feared what he had become.
He didn't walkâhe descended into the room like something ancient that had waited centuries to awaken. His eyes weren't glowing, but they didn't need to. The stillness in his face was enough.
He stopped in the center of the chamber, and slowly raised his hand.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Then he whispered:
"Where is he?"
No one answered.
Not Mara. Not Damien. Not even the veiled woman with the bone-stitched blindfold.
So Lucian spoke againâthis time not with his mouth.
He reached.
Blood answered.
Walls groaned.
The council's runes flared as if trying to restrain what Lucian had hidden for centuries.
Elder Varos clutched his chest. Renak stepped back.
Damien flinched, barely masking it with a scoff. "You're not the only monster in the room, Lucian."
"I don't have to be," Lucian said quietly. "I only need to be the last one standing."
The veiled woman tilted her head as though admiring him.
"You've grown teeth," she said. "But you still don't see the blade in your shadow."
"I don't need to," Lucian said, turning his gaze on her. "I am the blade."
The room shifted. The walls darkened, shadows moving unnaturally fast, as though the room itself had decided to change allegiances.
And from the hallway, dragging a trail of blood, came the broken body ofâ
Elder Thalos.
Still breathing.
Barely.
Mouth gagged. Half-charred. Alive.
The runes on the walls flickered wildly.
Everyone turned to Lucian.
He hadn't moved.
"You wanted proof?" he said, voice low. "You called me soft."
He looked down at Thalos, who whimpered.
"I only asked him once where Kyrell was."
No one spoke.
Because Lucianâcold, elegant, restrained Lucianâwas standing with the same grace he always hadâŠ
âŠbut the scent of vengeance poured off him like incense from a funeral pyre.
---
From the corner, Mara's hand curled around a dagger laced with kyrenium.
Damien's fingers grazed his blade.
But Lucian was no longer looking at them.
He turned toward the veiled woman.
"Unblind her," he said to the shadows.
The room obeyed.
And when the cloth unwrapped from her eyes, everyone stepped backâ
Because her gaze was not human.
Her eyes were twin black mirrors, reflecting everything the room had tried to hide.
And in those eyes:
Kyrell. Bleeding. Kneeling. Remembering something he had never told a soul.
Lucian's fists clenched.
Then the veiled woman spoke.
"He remembers now. The first promise. The first death. The first lie."
Her lips curled into something far too old to be a smile.
"And he remembers you."
---